Ruin
by Vanus Empty
Summary: “The Emperor Gramis is no more. His life was taken.” [Larsa&Penelo, BurOmisace]


Something I had running through my mind when I was at Mt. Bur-Omisace. So, yea, I ended up writing it. This can be interpreted as Penelo/Larsa if you squint and read it as I normally do. Mostly Hurt/Comfort/Angst. Apologies on that abrupt, lame ending. [Note: First FFXII fic, not all that intune with characters personalities. Hope everything is in order.

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She had never seen anyone look so broken. 

"_The Emperor Gramis is no more. His life was taken."_

Penelo watched as Larsa stood completely still, his mouth slightly ajar. The look of stunned anguish on his face was enough to break her heart. She realized, then, that he had the childish naïveté that his father was immortal, that he would never die. And, now, he looked so much younger than he really was.

She, herself, lost her family during the plague. First her mother, then her father. Both died quickly and in their sleep. She grieved, of course, but, because everyone knew that they would be touched by the plague, either by direct infection or by the loss of a loved one, they were prepared for the deaths that would come.

Larsa's father's assassination was quick, sudden, and very unexpected. He had no idea that that could have happened, she imagined. Larsa looked like he both wanted to run to a private location and cry until his eyes were dry and shriveled or scream his lungs out right then and there. But, he wouldn't, she knew. He had an image to maintain and couldn't be seen as weak.

Slowly, carefully, Penelo moved towards him as Ashe walked by, pausing and giving Larsa an understanding, sympathetic look. Yes, Ashe would know the pain Larsa was feeling, to lose your father at Vayne's hands. Only Larsa lost his father to his own brother.

Larsa jumped when her fingers brushed his arm. Penelo took his upper arm gently between both of her hands and led him away from the group. He stared at her with curious detachment. That surprised her. Who could both feel detached and curious at the same time?

He followed her, of course, because he knew that she knew that he wanted to be away from the group. When everyone was out of sight, the two sat down on a bench in silence.

After several minutes passed, she broke the silence in a soft voice. "You know, Larsa. They don't expect you not to grieve for your father," she whispered. "We're away from them, so, you can cry if you want to..."

Larsa was quiet for several moments before he leaned his head against her shoulder, face turned mostly towards the fabric of her shirt to hide much of his face. "I know," he said quietly.

They were quiet for a long time then. Penelo rested her head against Larsa's, just waiting. Waiting for something she really didn't know.

After awhile, she felt something warm and wet against her shoulder. Turning her head, she watched in sympathy as Larsa cried silent tears. He bit his lip hard to fight the tremors that threatened to rock his body and the sobs that begged to be released. Penelo turned and wrapped her arms tightly around Larsa's shoulders, pressing her cheek against his dark hair.

With shoulders shaking, Larsa silently grieved for his father in the comfort of the only person who cared enough about _him,_ not the next possible emperor to the Archadian Empire, but Larsa Solidor. He gripped Penelo's shirt with one hand, the other clutching the fabric of his pant legs.

Penelo rubbed Larsa's back slowly, comfortingly. After the tears ran dry, she let Larsa sit up and placed her hands onto her lap.

Larsa drew in a shaky breath. "I... I think I should speak with the Gran Kiltias. Then, I must return to Archadia. I—I need to see my father and my brother."

"I understand." She nodded solemnly, but didn't speak her thoughts on Vayne. Larsa would probably never see his brother for what he really was until he could see it, without any doubt, with his own eyes. Penelo imagined that if someone ever wrote a book on Larsa's life, the only title appropriate for it would be _The Loss of Innocence_.

Standing, Larsa offered his hand to Penelo to help her up which she accepted gratefully. While the colour in his cheeks was a little off, and the whites of his eyes were a faint pink, he looked like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Penelo offered him a small, half smile.

"Will you be all right?" She asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

Larsa returned the smile, albeit sadly, and led her back to the rest of the group, taking his time. "Maybe. In time, I suppose."

And she knew that he would be.


End file.
